


I'll always come when you call

by pagesandletters



Series: One last time [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, But you should know that by now, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dead Castiel, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV Dean, Post-Season/Series 11, The title is not sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagesandletters/pseuds/pagesandletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dean wanted was to do his yearly routine, is that too much to ask? Apparently the answer is yes. (Please read the first two parts of this series if you haven't already! Everything should make more sense if you read them first!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll always come when you call

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry but please don't kill me because the final part is long overdue D: Anyways, this is the end of the One last time series, which I hope you liked. Enjoy! (P.S. if anybody wants to translate any of my works, I'm cool with that as long as you credit the original work!) This isn't beta'd, any and all mistakes are mine.

Dean looks at the date and sighs sadly. Today is the four year anniversary of Cas' death. Well, technically it's the estimated anniversary of Cas' death. They still don't know exactly when he died or what killed him since Cas had been there for a bit and there weren't any clues left behind besides the angel blade. Even with a dead trail, Dean had been set on finding whoever or whatever killed his angel. He had done everything he could for months, hoping that he could at least find something to hint at the killer. But even though he had trained his whole life to find out who was the killer for whatever case they had worked, there was nothing for him to find. He finally gave up after a year of relentless searching, because even he could tell that either there was nothing to find, or the killer had erased any and all evidence of their crime. 

Dean stretches his arms above his head, feeling the muscles strain slightly. He yawns and lies his arms back by his side, wondering how four years went by so quickly. It seemed like just yesterday he and Cas were going on dates, talking about what they would do in the future. They had talked about what their wedding would be like (even though neither of them had proposed at the time, but they both knew they wanted to get married soon), where they would go on their honeymoon, what they would name their kids - 

He stops that train of thought before he can mourn the lost possibilities any more than he already has and finally gets out of bed to grab his duffel bag from off of his desk. He's made it his tradition to go to Appleton, Wisconsin on the anniversary of Cas' death and spend a day or two in town. At first, it was to feel connected to Cas since that was where he last saw him, but now it's mostly his way of writing a note to tell him what all he's missing out on. 

He opens his bag and looks through it, making sure that he's prepared in case anything happens while he's there. Usually nothing happens, but knowing his luck, it wouldn't stay like that forever. 

After he's satisfied that he's completely prepared for anything he might encounter, he heads to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee before hitting the road. As the coffee is brewing, he grabs a pencil and a piece of paper and writes, 'Sam, I'll be gone for a couple of days at the most. I'll call you when I get there. Be back soon. - Dean.' He sets down the pencil and grabs a piece of tape. He sticks the note on the fridge where he knows Sam will see it. The last time he had left a note, on the table instead of the fridge, Sam had freaked out before trying to look for a note and had called Dean. Sam had been furious, although since it had been the middle of the night, Dean can't blame him for not thinking straight. The coffee machine's beeps break into Dean's train of thought and lets him know that it's time to leave. He pours his coffee into a travel cup, takes a sip, and heads out to his Baby. 

~~ 

Dean puts the Impala into park and pauses for a second, preparing himself to go into the abandoned building. It looks worse than it did last time he was here. Last couple of times he had been here, there was some small bits of rust on and around the door, there were weeds everywhere (but Dean had expected that since nobody owned it), the roof was mostly sturdy and though the door was old, it was fairly sturdy. Now, rust seemed to be taking over the walls and vines were starting to creep their way up to the gutters. The roof looked like it was about to fall to the floor and the door was barely hanging on by one hinge. It is old and abandoned, but Dean can't help but feel sad that it was wasting away. This was where he saw Cas for the last time, and he didn't want to say goodbye to it just yet. 

He sits there in silence for a few minutes, just taking time to absorb the fact that this building won't be here one day, before he remembers that he was going to call Sam when he got here. He grabs his phone from his back pocket and punches in Sam's number. The phone rings five times before Sam's voicemail finally picks up. 'Sam usually picks up his phone.' Dean thinks with a sigh. 'Maybe he went to sleep, I mean it is close to midnight after all.' 

Dean waits a few moments for Sam to stop talking so he can reassure him that he got to Appleton safe and sound. Sam's voice finally trails off and the long awaited tone sounds in his ear. Dean pauses before saying, "Hey Sammy, I just arrived in Appleton. Like I said in the note, I'll probably stay for a day or two then head home. I'll call if something goes wrong." Dean ends the call and shoves his phone in the pocket of his leather jacket. He knows it'll be cold when he steps out of his car since it's the middle of the night, but he'll get used to it. 

He swings open the door of the Impala, cold air rushing in to kill the warmth Dean had built up. He shivers slightly before exiting the car and shutting the door. He unlocks the trunk before grabbing his duffel bag and heading inside. 

The inside is completely wrecked, to say the least. There were once shelves with boxes and such haphazardly strewn on them, and even though it had looked messy, the shelves had always been upright and had been against the walls. Now, they were thrown onto the floor, their contents strewn across the floor, making it almost impossible to walk on the floor without stepping on anything. Dean grabs a flashlight and shines it at the walls, searching for anything that might tell him what did this. 

Dean almost gives up hope on finding any hints on the walls when he finally spots an angel sigil on the farthest wall. He makes his way over to it, mind teeming with questions. As he slowly makes his way over there, trying his best to not slip on any stray papers, he notices that the sigil looks...off. He certainly isn't a master at angel sigils and everything looks like it's supposed to, but something about it just doesn't feel right. 

As he slowly makes his way to the sigil, he realizes what made it feel off. The markings didn't look like they normally did. I mean, from a distance they look like they're supposed to, unless you're familiar with angel sigils. But even then, it's very hard to tell that the markings are wrong. Who knows what this angel sigil does? 'I mean, how bad could an angel sigil be? They're angels.' Not that being an angel has made a difference to whether they did good or bad in the past, but maybe they've changed. Dean snorts at himself. 'Yeah right. An angel, change their ways? It won't happen soon.' 

While Dean is consumed in his thoughts, he doesn't notice the people sneaking around behind him. He doesn't notice them silently making their way towards him. However, he does notice the blinding pain exploding at the base of his neck that makes his eyes water and vision grow dark. 

As Dean fights to stay conscious, he hears muffled voices. He can't make out what they're saying. Dean curses at them silently, the throbbing pain making it hard for him to concentrate on anything. 

The voices stop speaking and Dean strains to make out something. He hears a high-pitched whistling sound and before he can process what's happening, he's knocked out cold.

~~ 

Dean walks into the bunker, slightly confused. He remembers being knocked out by...someone. 'Maybe a hunter came in while I was out of it, ganked whoever was beating me up and took me here? But how do they know where the bunker is? Only Sam, Mom, Cas, and I know where it is.' Dean thinks in confusion. He shrugs and decides that for now it doesn't matter how he got here, but that he got out of there alive. He'll figure out what happened later and find whoever saved him and thank them a million times over. Well, maybe not a million times. 

He heads to the kitchen to grab something to eat. He did just get the shit beat outta him, so he figures he deserves some food and maybe a beer if there is any. 'Maybe Sammy finally bought some pie.' He thinks wistfully. Knowing Sam, he got cake instead or forget about it entirely, so he smiles slightly in surprise when he enters the kitchen to find a pecan pie waiting for him on the counter. 'It's still warm too.' Dean thinks happily, a grin spreading across his face. He picks it up and shouts, "Hey Sammy, thanks for finally bringing me some pie!" He opens a drawer, grabs a fork, and continues, "You know, it's about damn time you remembered to get me some, especially pecan." 

He heads to the table and sits down. He's finally going to get to enjoy his pie without any interruptions for once in his life. As he hears Sam walk in behind him, Dean takes a bite and absently nods to him in appreciation. "This," He says with a full mouth, "is the best pie I've ever had Sammy! Where did you get it?" Dean pauses and waits for Sam's reply, but he doesn't say anything. He swallows the bite of pie and rolls his eyes. 'What's gotten into him? Did his tongue get bit off or something?' Dean thinks in amusement. He turns towards Sammy, a small smile on his face and a witty remark on the tip of his tongue. But when he sees Cas instead of Sam, the remark dies and his grin falls into a look of shock. 

'Good Chuck my memory did NOT do him any justice.' Dean thinks dazedly. Even with Cas' face burned permanently into his memory, a nothing could ever seem to do him any good. His brilliant blue eyes were bright with surprise, his mouth hanging open in an O shape. His hair was mussed up and looked like it hadn't been brushed for awhile. He had on his faithful trench coat, which looked as good as new (which was surprising to say the least since he could have sworn that it had been torn up). Even with the nagging thought that something about this wasn't right, he couldn't bring himself to think about it right now. It was Cas for crying out loud. He hadn't been able physically see him since they gave him a hunter's funeral. 

Wait. Wait just one minute.

They had given him a hunter's funeral and unless Cas had any unknown objects tying him to Earth, he wasn't a ghost. That meant he was...

He pauses for a second before asking, "Am I dead?" 

He can't be dead. This must be some batshit crazy dream or...maybe a Djinn got him? He did get knocked out so it was possible that a Djinn just moved into town and Dean was its first victim. He frowns at himself, knowing that the chances of it being a Djinn were slim to none. 

Cas looks down at the ground, as if he was hoping he wouldn't be asked that, and nods slowly, regret painted on his face. Dean blinks in confusion. How did he die? And more importantly, who killed him? This couldn't be a Djinn induced dream, so he had to be dead. 

He shakes his head in denial. "I can't be dead. I'm Dean frigging Winchester!" He looks at Cas pleadingly. "Please tell me this is all just some batshit crazy dream! That I'll wake up tomorrow, have breakfast with Sammy and Mom -" He stops mid sentence, his words hitting him like a truck. 

Oh god. 

Sammy and his Mom. He left them there, alone. Sure, there wasn't much he could do about that but...what were they doing now? How long had he been dead? How would he get back to them? 

Dean looks at Cas, ready to ask him the questions running through his mind at a million miles per hour. But when his eyes met Cas' crystal blue ones, filled with regret and hope, he realized that Sam and his Mom would be fine. Okay sue him, maybe he didn't believe they would be fine, but he had to stay with Cas right now. Mary and Sam would be able to handle whatever the world threw at them without him. Right now, he needed to catch up with his angel, it had been four years since he last saw him after all. 

Cas breaks eye contact with Dean and stares at the ground. He walks slowly towards Cas, not wanting to frighten him and gently sets a hand down on his shoulder. He clears his throat before saying, "Cas, why don't we go to the living room and talk. I'll tell you about what I've gotten up to, and you'll tell me what you've been doing over the last four years. Sound good?" Cas stays silent for a moment before looking at Dean. 

"I would love to hear about what you 'got up to' while I wasn't there to tell you not to do some of your crazy ideas." Cas grins and his eyes light up as if he was a little kid waking up on Christmas day. Dean's face splits into a smile and he chuckles. 

"Alright Cas. Where do I begin?"

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, Billie the reaper doesn't exist here so no going into the void for Sam and Dean ^-^ I might not post anything else for a while since I am lacking ideas and school just started;-; If you have any requests I will gladly try and fulfill your needs (But also because I have no clue what to write next;-;) I'm sorry if Dean or Cas sound OOC o(╥﹏╥)o Any comments, kudos, or bookmarks are appreciated <3


End file.
